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The graceful Anderson has a decidedly normal side.

“Earth to Lana. I’m here for you to dissect,” I singsong and poke her arm.

She jolts up, her head whipping around, and yanks out a strand of hair that has slipped into her mouth.

“Shit! You scared me.”

“Had to wake you up. You were snoring. Scared everyone away.”

“No way! I don’t snore. Lana Anderson never snores. I wasn’t even sleeping. I just closed my eyes a bit to rest.”

I snort. “If you say so. Although I have to admire you for that. I can never fall asleep in public.”

Lana stretches her arms above her, the black box tumbling out of her grasp, and she quickly snatches it before it falls off the chair.

“Whew, that was a close one.” She blows out a breath, her eyes as big as dinner plates.

“What’s that?” I motion to the box.

She shrugs. “A puzzle box. I love them and usually have one or two with me to fiddle with whenever I’m bored. There’s supposed to be a secret hidden inside if only I could open it—”

Lana pauses and stares at the gray suit jacket that has fallen onto her lap. “What’s this?”

For a moment I want to tell her about Elias, but something about the mobster’s expression—a flash of vulnerability when he lifted his finger to his lips—gives me pause.

Plus, I don’t think I want my friend to be wondering about a man who blackmails and kills people for a living.

So instead, I smack my lips and give her my best Lana Anderson imitation—big eyes, wide smile, a slight batting of my eyelashes. Reverse interrogation, take that!

“I don’t know. You tell me. I thought you were just ‘resting your eyes.’ Do you have asecret admirer?”

“What?” A strange flush creeps up her face. She clutches the black box tighter in her hand. “That’s impossible. No way.”

“Really now?” I plop down on the chair next to her and soften my tone, using the most calming voice I’ve perfected for my profession. “You seem agitated, Lana. What were you just thinking about?”

“I’m perplexed. I mean, there’s no way I’d have—” She frowns, eyes narrowing. “Oh, don’t you dare, Olivia. Don’t use that doctor voice on me. We’re here for you and I’m wide awake now. Spill. Tell me what the heck is going on with you and my brother, and don’t even bother denying it. You, Ms. I can’t lie for shit, are throwing all sorts of guilty signals, yes—just like that.”

I groan and bury my heated face in my hands.

“Come to mama. I want to hear the truth from you.” She pulls me into her arms and the scent of roses hits my nose.

Warmth unfurls inside me even as amusement joins the party. She pats my back like I’m a little child, even though she’s only two years older than me.

“You aren’t giving up, are you?” I mumble into her shoulder.

“Nope. I grew up with four older brothers who tried everything to stop me from butting into their business. Never giving up is my middle name. I can compete in the Olympics with my mad skills.”

I snicker and pull away.

Staring at my friend, noting her familiar gray eyes pinched in concern, I force out a smile, a lump suddenly forming in my throat.

“I…I may have made a bad decision, and the worst thing is, I don’t regret it.”

She stays silent, clearly waiting for me to continue.

What will she think about you if she knows? She hired you to be on the cruise as a doctor. She trusted you to be professional. You’ve broken the cardinal rule. What will she—

My lungs tighten in a vise and my palms grow clammy.